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2013-02-01 (Generic) Biker Brawl
McGinty's Irish Pub used to be a moderately quaint hole in the wall bar frequented predominantly by middle-aged men. On a weekday, the place typically had a few of Brooklyn's retired and unemployed shuffling about and conversing over a pint or three. About a month ago, the clientele changed dramatically. A biker gang from New Jersey has set up shop, and scared away all of the previous patrons. Their generic Harley Davidson motorcycles are frequently lined up on the sidewalk in front of the bar, in violation of the city's parking laws. Obnoxious death metal is played over loudspeakers at night while hard-working citizens are trying to sleep. Also, they run crystal meth. For these reasons, and because of a series of head injuries sustained over a long hockey career, Casey Jones is currently staking out the pub. From across the street, he lurks around a hot dog cart and eats his order as slowly as possible to maximize his surveillance time. Aside from the duffel back under his arm (from which a hockey stick protrudes), there is very little to separate him from the rest of the herd going to and fro early on a Friday. Back across the street, one of the biker gang's members lurks in the doorway, keeping watch over the row of about twenty relatively expensive bikes outside. From within, the sounds of semi-drunken bikers create a veritable cacophony, making it obvious that the gang has started their debauchery pretty early. Atom Eve looks way too young to be hanging around a bar in Brooklyn on a school day. But she's just about a solid A or B student, she can totally afford to skip every now and then for a day off- it totally counts as community service, right? She only knows about the troubles because a friend's dad got himself knocked around pretty badly by a handful of bikers, and so, she's decided to come do something about it. While dressed in a bright pink superhero costume with matching dangly earrings. It doesn't really help with that "looking way too young to be here" problem. At all. Although, if they're like any of her other usual foes, they'll probably underestimate her abilities. She hopes. The upside to being a C to D-lister: no one knows just how powerful she really is. Eve is not staking out the bar. Her outfit doesn't exactly scream "stealth." No. She's standing outside the bar, and turning the paint on all the bikes a brighter shade of Barbie pink than her costume. With little patel flower decals. Jubilee isn't much on pubs, but she does know the hot dog vendor here, as there used to be an ice cream shop on this block that she visited often. The shop's found greener pastures, but she does come down this way once in a while to check up on her old friend, ordering a dog with the works. She's doing that now, casting glances at the obnoxious biker hellhole over Lou's shoulder. "Funny, that place used to be lots quieter," she comments. "When did it get so totally scuzztacular?" "Been a while since you came by, Jubilee, or you would've seen it," Lou replies, following her gaze and snorting in disgust. "Some bad folks have taken the place over. They leave me alone so long as I stay on this side of the street." "Major bad luck, Lou," the teener replies sympathetically, sliding her money over the counter and accepting her hot dog. "Thanks." "You stay away from those bikers, huh? They ain't fit company for a nice girl like you!" Lou says sternly. "Oh, I will. Promise!" Jubilee takes a big bite out of her hot dog and steps away, looking across the street... and nearly chokes when she sees the girl in girly colors turning the bikes into Barbie-Davidsons! "Whoa..." She bolts down her hot dog in a few big bites. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to know what'll probably happen next! The reaction from the lookout is about as predictable as could be expected: beer sprays out of his mouth and nose. A lot of beer. After he has a second to recover, he calls out "Hey! Some crazy bitch is tagging our bikes!" He winds back and throws the mostly empty beer bottle in the girl's general direction. As beer dribbles down his beard, he leans his head inside the doorway of the bar to call for backup. What he says is incomprehensible over the loud music from within the bar, but most of the words are the kind you can only hear on HBO. Across the street, Casey watches the rapidly-developing situation over his mustard and chili-covered hot dog. "Man, there goes my carefully set up sting operation." The remainder of the hot dog is squashed in Casey's fist and then rapidly scarfed down. Moving as quickly as he can, he shifts the duffle bag around to allow easier access to the zipper and pulls out a battered old plastic hockey mask. Rather than run straight across the street, he takes a semi-circular route across the street in order to come up behind the biker lookout. As for the biker lookout, he does what any self-respecting biker would do when his ride is being 'spraypainted.' He pulls out a semi-automatic pistol. Look away! Look back! The pistol is now diamonds! Well. Glass, actually. As if Eve is giving these idiots anything that valuable. "Okay, that wasn't very nice," the young woman responds, crossing her arms over her chest. "Try being a little nicer. 'Hey, young lady, thanks so much for making our bikes so pretty!' maybe." She's laying the ditzy act on a little thick, but at least she has their attention. "Or would you prefer purple? Maybe a nice day-glo orange? Oh, I know!" The next one is given the ruby slipper treatment, with a thick coat of red glitter and rhinestones. "How's that?" Jubilee, brushing away bun crumbs with one hand, pulls down her shades with the other. Nope, didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what'd happen next! On the other hand... whoa. The California girl blinks in surprise as the lookout's pistol becomes purely decorative in an instant! "Wow. Wish I could do that," she murmurs. She's still moving, though, across the street and into a position to give Pastel Girl some cover if she needs it. It's close to the mouth of an alley, just in case they need a quick way out of here. You don't see that many generic Harleys outside a bar without an equal number of generic bikers to go with them, and they're probably equally well-armed. In her denims and winter coat and hat, she's just a little less noticeable than in her usual attire. Maybe they'll miss her with Pastel Girl putting on such a show! As the biker looks confusedly at his nonfunctioning (and also glass) pistol, the rest of the bikers start pouring out through the doorway. They are, predictably, in a state of some alarm. And an alarmed, slightly drunk biker is never friendly. "Shit! It's one of them superheroes!" "I didn't know Supergirl was a redhead." "I'm gonna bust her mouth open with a crowbar!" "Kind of perty, ain't she?" "Let's shoot this loopy kid and get rid of her before the fuzz shows up." The general tone of the bikers is less than complimentary. Guns start getting pulled and the bikers start spreading out to surround the pink-clad superheroine. But just in time to make things worse, a non-biker male voice calls out over the low grumble of violent threats. "Hey lawbreakers! Are you familiar with the recent changes to the Department of Health's Sanitation Code?" A few of the bikers turn around to see a young man wearing a hockey mask, with a fiberglass hockey stick in one hand and a wooden baseball bat in the other. The duffel bag is still slung under his shoulder, and the opened zipper reveals various other sporting implements. "Because I'm pretty sure it's illegal to have greaseballs like youse guys so close to the food..." A bubble of bright pink energy pops into existence around the pink-clad young woman. In case it hasn't been noticed, pink is kind of a theme for her. "I don't think they catch on very fast," Atom Eve responds to her newfound ally (at least... she hopes that's the case! He... doesn't look particularly stable.) "Or shower, by the looks of it. And... wow, let's not even get started on the fashion sense." More guns and weapons begin shifting into useless objects in their weilders' hands. Then a heavy, studded leather coat glows pink for a moment, transforming into a tightly cinched straight jacket. "Can you keep them busy?" she requests of the masked man. Her matter-rearranging is fast, but it's not instant. Bigger things take more time. As much as she can appreciate good dialogue, Jubilee really wants to scream right now. On the plus side, Pink Girl (her nickname having been hastily rethought) looks to be just about untouchable. On the minus side, the guy who's now joining the fight has a /hockey stick/ against a /lot/ of guns, and he still has to cross the street! Well, she does have a good position. Thank you, Logan, for all the tactical drills! "Hey, ya greasy pigs! How do you like to be cooked?" she taunts, unleashing a wide spray of bright red fireworks that pop and flash stroboscopically, hopefully brightly enough to blind the bikers and let Pink Girl do her stuff. And with luck, they'll buy Bat Boy enough time to cross the street and give them what-for! As he's in more of a 'dramatic sauntering' mood and less of a 'efficient charging' one, Casey Jones' street-crossing process is anything but instantaneous. He does, however, make it across before shots start firing. But shots don't end up being that big of a concern, considering the rate at which guns are being turned into... not guns. Just as one of the bikers points one of the few remaining shotguns in Casey's direction: he gets blinded by the sudden burst of light. The shot goes off, but it goes a bit too wide. The scare/noise combination is all the motivation necessary to get Casey to start running. His voice raises in pitch as he yells out his nonsensical battlecry: "GOONGALA!" With his makeshift melee weapons at his side, he wades into the crowd of bikers, smacking two of them in the mouth at once, and knocking out most of their teeth. Oh, jeeze that's... that's a lot of blood. Eve makes a face as she focuses on transmuting one of the bikes into a big metal cage and placing it around another biker. "Crap, sorry! I thought I got all the guns!" she shouts to Casey, and starts looking for more steel and gunpowder to turn into other things. He swings, he scores! And Pink Girl's now got nearly all the weapons nerfed, so Jubilee concentrates on creating as much confusion as possible as she dashes in to cover Pink Girl's back, hurling plasmoids in all directions. Random swirls and flares of multicolored plasmoids sweep and flash around the scuzzy bikers, giving them /a lot/ to pay attention to. She also lets them smack into the bikers and pop, delivering a nasty but harmless sting. "Get 'em!" she cheers as Casey wades in swinging. "Cowabunga!" Oh, oh no. Too much power use! Atom Eve bites her lip, blushing a little as she realizes just how tired she's getting. And that she's going to need to be inside in like, 20 minutes or less. And not in Brooklyn. "Okay. /Now/ I got all the guns!" she promises Casey. "Um. You guys look like you can handle this." The pink energy she'd bubbled around herself earlier pops back into existance, and lifts her up into the air. "And YOU!" she points to the bikers. "Get out of Brooklyn, or you'll be facing Atom Eve again!" "Cowabunga? What are you, that guy from that... uff... show about those... ugh!... New Jersey people?" Casey's snide remarks are frequently interrupted by the attacks of various unhappy bikers. Fortunately for him, none of them seem to be packing anything deadlier than a crowbar or a knife. Most of them, in fact, are holding items that are far more ridiculous. One even has a pool floatie in his hands. This makes for some pretty one-sided fighting.Casey has obviously never taken a karate class in his life, but a hockey stick to the mid-section seems to take out bikers just as easily as a roundhouse kick. A spray of blood comes out of one poor slobs nose when he gets jabbed in the face with a reasonably-priced Louisville Slugger. The spray gets all over Casey's formerly pristine Rangers jersey. "Sonuva..." "Wha..? You've never heard of /Chief Thunderthud/?" Jubilee exclaims, blasting an ambitious biker who's trying to get to... nobody? Looks like Pink Girl -um, Atom Eve- is skipping out! "Okay... don't take any wooden Barbies!" the Chinese-American teen calls after her, and redoubles her efforts, blasting another biker who's trying to circle around Casey and blindside him. The city... it is a dangerous city... it is her city... a city that must be defended from the superstitious and cowardly... wait... that's not right... First, Gotham is way South of here in Jersey, second, she is no member of the Bat Family, and thankfully so... I mean seriously, those guys are grim, dark, and really have some issues that need some serious psychological problems. Caitlin was sort of patrolling the city... she was pushing her luck on the whole using SHIELD fund for a hotel room while she found an apartment and a job, but the fact is there is only so much apartment and job hunting one can do. She'd decided to see if she could 'run' into Superboy again, just rooftop leaping and practicing some of her gymnastics when she'd heard the commotion of... a biker fight? Really? Isn't that a bit cliche? What is this? The 50, 60's, or 70's... maybe early 80s? Didn't Biker fights go out of style with disco, mullets, and pagers? And sheesh, these aren't even manly bikers, some of their bikes look more like 'On the Road' Stacy or 'James Dean' Ken, or worse yet 'My first Hawg' Skipper ride them. Leaping into the foray, with a mighty "BOOOYAKAHSHAH!!!" Caitlin decides to put some of the bikes out of their misery, landing and kicking the line of bikes into one another to draw attention to herself, "Like the endless road, your pain shall last forever, when I kick your butts." she pauses to count the syllables, glad she used 'last' instead of 'endure', then smiling, she cracks her neck, then her knuckles one handed each (you know, the awesome way, wear you just make a fist and your knuckles crack instead of having to interlock your hands, cause it is way tougher looking). She doesn't feel real sympathy for the Ranger Jersey... St. Louis Blues are way cooler... yes, she lives in New York and doesn't cheer for the Rangers... deal with it. She smiles, "Why are you little girly bikers even fighting... 1. Biker fights are totally half a century ago. 2. Shouldn't you guys like be battle baking or doing a ballet or tap dance off?" yup, she went there. "Wasn't Chief Thunderthighs in the WWE? 'Cause I only watch /real/ sports..." A well-placed kick in a biker's chest adds extra accent to the word 'real.' About a quarter of them are completely down for the count now, but there are still plenty to go around. "It's the whole goddamn Justice League! We gotta run!" "Nah... these clowns ain't Justice League. Pretty sure they're all in high school. We can take... UGH!" The last guy's attempt at a rallying cry is interupted by a baseball bat to the back of his head. From the way his body slumps when it hits the ground, it's unlikely he'll remember how to tie his shoes when he wakes up, if he ever does. "What is it, Ginger Chick Pride Month? Or are you guys just working in shifts now?" Casey looks as surprised as the bikers when yet another superhero shows up for his carefully planned sting operation. "I am /totally/ not justifying that with a response," Jubilee ripostes, plasma-blasting the guy who's yelling about the Justice League right in the seat of his well-worn leather pants, and another one trying to flank Casey straight in the beer gut. "Go on! Putt-putt your way out of here! Or you're in for a /major/ butt-whipping!" she shouts at the bikers, vaguely aware that Caitlin's just arrived. It has to be her, between the tumbling bikes and the awful wordplay. "Hi, Caitlin! Grab a partner and dance with us!" Another remark from Casey has her glancing back his way. "Pride Month? Oh no, we just came here to annoy you!" she fires back. He's not really talking to her, of course, but she's irritated enough to retort, especially since she's kept at least three of these guys off his back. He totally needs her help! Pouting a bit, then getting a bit irate, "Hey, one... I'm not a chick? Are you fighting these bikers, or auditioning for them." as a couple rush her, Caitlin grabs the chains they're swinging and returns the favor by yanking and swinging the guys by their chains, "Sorry, to pull your chains, fellas, but here, let's go for a spin." wow, okay, maybe Jubilee is right in her head, that is pretty bad wordplay, before going back to talking to Casey, "Two, there is nothing wrong with Gingers. Some of the coolest people in the world are Gingers. You teling me that you were a Lovie Howell kind of guy?" then to her 'dance partners', "You know, you guys might like square dancing... Swing your partner, away you go, hit your heads, stub your toes..." okay, that was definitely bad... Definitely. Jubilee actually winces. "Cait, seriously, I'm gonna have to teach you how to do dialogue," she calls, flattening another biker with a directed burst of plasmoids at his feet, tripping him up. Looks like Casey and Caitlin have the rest of them, though! "I've gotta check on Lou and call the police. You two have fun! Totally call me later, Cait!" And she dashes across the street, looks around for a moment, and then ducks down the alley Lou went into earlier. "I don't know who that is... so I'm not gonna answer your question." A twenty-two year-old guy with anger issues probably can't be expected to be familiar with the cast of Gilligan's Island. Even if it is still in syndication. "But with a name like 'Lovey Howl' I'm guessing she's a porn star?" There is a loud 'CRACK' as Casey's fiberglass hockey stick breaks in half right as it connects with a particularly hard-looking biker head. "Ratty piece of garbage... knew I should have stuck with aluminum..." As Jubilee bounces, the remaining bikers regroup in greater concentrations. For some reason though, they're focusing more on Caitlin than Casey. Whether it's because they think she's the greater threat or the lesser one is anybody's guess. The ways of bikers are unknowable. Looking at Casey, a twitch comes to Caitlin, "Dude. I know this is like the gutter, but get your mind out of it." she was going to say more about the show, the classic Ginger/Mary-Ann/Lovey debates... The fact that the animated spin-off series had Ginger voiced by Mary-Ann's actress, the social commentary on the sins, its links to Lost and its way lame storyline, cause seriously, the smoke monster can become dead people, but everyone on the island is dead, so the smoke monster can be everyone, except we see people die on the island, and born, but they were already dead... Gilligan's Island at least made sense and was funny. Sadly that was all cut off by being piled on by dozens of enraged Bikers. Caitlin grunts and grits her teeth, she really doesn't want to hurt these guys... too much... and they can't do any real harm to her, but when they start to get too grabby she freaks out a bit and does the classic explosive burst, flinging guys everywhere, "Hey... you guys may have no respect for women, but I am a lady, and you don't grab a lady there!!!" wading through the crowd, thumping them in the foreheads with probably almost as much force as a baseball bat to the face Now short one melee weapon, Casey uses his free hand to toss a hockey puck right at a biker's unprotected xiphoid process. Apparently he misses, because while the guy falls to his knees, he does not appear to be in danger of dying. However, a bat to the side of the head gets him out of the fight permanently. Between Casey's deliberate efforts and Caitlin's explosive fit of fury, most of the bikers are either unconscious or lying down and moaning. The last three realize the futility of their situation. One of them is too injured to get away, so he simply gets on his knees and puts his arms in front of his face in the classic 'please don't beat me up' pose. The other two begin bolting, each in opposite directions. Casey doesn't seem to care that the man on his knees has effectively surrendered. "If you wake up, tell your buddies that Brooklyn is done with you. Tell 'em Casey Jones wants you to pack up your shit and get out of his town. And tell 'em that if I catch any of you scumbags creepin' around this part of the world again, I might just lose my temper. You got all that?" The man nods in the affirmative. "Good." Casey brings the bat down on the guys head, hard enough to daze, but not hard enough to knock him out entirely. There wouldn't be much of message to deliver if he gave the guy a concussion, most likely. "Hey... Tall Ginger Person... you mind getting that one?" Casey points in the direction of one of the fleeing guys. "I'm a finely tuned athletic machine and all, but I can't catch two meth heads at once." Sighing, Caitlin nods and grabs one of the motorcycles, tossing it far enough that the guy will easily see it land before he gets to it, "I'm not in the mood for running, but unlike Casey Voorhees, I won't beat you to a pulp if you come back here and let me tie you up gently with these chains. Make me run after you, and I will not be so gentle." to further support her point, she takes another motorcycle and grabbing the tires tears the motorcyle to pieces in a rain of parts, "I have a few big wishes to make, surrender and you won't be my wishbone." Not one to be outdone at crimefighting, no matter how tall and ginger the crimefighter might be, Casey attempts a similar stunt with his baseball bat. He pulls the bat back and hurls it with all of the force he can muster. Unfortunately, his aim with a thrown baseball bat leaves something to be desired, and the bat clanks against the side of an apartment building, many feet away from its intended target. "Damn. Well, I never said baseball was my sport." In the distance the sound of police sirens can be heard. Apparently this brawl (and the gunshots it created) managed to get the attention of the police. "Well, that's my cue to take off. We'll let the police clean up all the blood and teeth and whatnot. I already cleaned up the trash." And with that, he begins running in the direction the last biker took off in, pausing only momentarily to pick up his bat before he vanishes around a corner. Caitlin looks around, checking the tears in her jacket, then gets an idea and walks over to the pile of bikers, finds a few with nicer leather jackets, takes their jackets off their unconscious forms, and then giggles. She walks over to the guy who has kneeled down and messed his pants from the flying motorcycle, ties him up in chains as promised, and then thumps him on the temple for good measure, before leaping up to a rooftop to look through the jackets to see which fits best, keeping an eye on the scene from the shadows. It is the city, the shadows are friends... the cops will clean up the mess, but there is no rest for a true hero. She stalks the city, she saves lives, that is what is important. And we're back to the silly Batfamily stuff... totally need to find a better rooftop avenger to emulate. Maybe a Ninja!!! Category:Logs Category:RPLogs